


Into the Gilded Cage

by PrincessMariana



Series: Dark-ish Batfam [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: -Ish, Batfamily (DCU), Bruce just wants his kids to be safe, Can be read alone, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Fan Boy Tim Drake, Gen, Obsessive Behavior, Overprotective, Parent Bruce Wayne, Protective Bruce Wayne, Stalker Tim Drake, Tim just wants a good family, at any cost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMariana/pseuds/PrincessMariana
Summary: Tim investigates if Dick Grayson is being held against his will by Bruce Wayne. He somehow ends up spending the summer with the two at Wayne Manor. It might be a prison for Dick, but the more Tim stays, the less he wants to leave.This follows A Death in the Family, but you don't need to read that to read this. It might be useful, though.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Dark-ish Batfam [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724602
Comments: 212
Kudos: 423





	1. Tim

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to those who came from the previous fic! And welcome to those new to this AU! :)
> 
> I read everyone's comments on the last fic, and created spreadsheets, and outlines, and then I scrapped all of those, and just went with the vibe I getting from the comments, mixed with the vibe that's getting me through social distancing solo. :D

“Th-this was a m-m-mistake,” Tim whispered to himself as he shivered. “Why d-d-did I th-think th-this was a g-g-good idea?”

He was huddled under one of the many old oak trees that lined the road to Wayne Manor. He was experiencing first-hand the end to Gotham’s two-week drought. He hadn’t heard any thunder yet, so using a tree for a pseudo-shelter _probably_ wouldn’t get him killed. If he died a few miles from his house and not during one of his adventures following Batman and Robin, Tim was going to be pissed.

He’d planned to be out in the rain, but the rain had come earlier than expected. And it wasn’t supposed to be so _cold_ , either. He was cold and wet and miserable, and he hated himself for failing his first mission. Get into Wayne Manor. Find Dick Grayson. How hard could that be?

A flash of headlights broke him out of his gloomy thoughts. He peered around the tree trunk at the road. In addition to shelter, he’d picked this tree so that he would be out of sight. He lived in Gotham and his parents had money. He didn’t want to tempt fate and end up kidnapped.

The headlights belonged to an expensive sports car – a Mercedes, from the insignia – which was not unexpected on this road. But Wayne Manor wasn’t hosting any parties tonight, and Bruce Wayne didn’t usually have company. That meant either that Bruce Wayne was coming home or that trouble was coming to Bruce Wayne. In this weather, the latter was more likely.

The car stopped, and Tim moved back so that the tree kept him completely from view. He held a hand over his mouth to quiet his chattering teeth. Over the sound of rain, he heard the sloshing of shoes on mud.

“Are you alright, son?”

Tim recognized that voice. Bruce Wayne. Thank god. Tim peeked from behind the tree again. Sure enough, Mr. Wayne was standing a few paces away. The umbrella in his hand wasn’t enough to keep his expensive suit and shoes from being splattered by mud and rain, but Mr. Wayne didn’t look perturbed.

Tim gulped. How was he going to explain his presence? He’d originally planned to say that he’d been out for a walk in the woods, gotten lost in the rain, and miraculously found Wayne Manor. His parents’ property bordered the Wayne Manor grounds, so it’d be plausible. But now he’d been found near the road and closer to Wayne Manor than his home. It was super suspicious for him to be walking along the road to Wayne Manor in the middle of a storm, just for fun. There was no way the greatest detective ever – Batman himself – would believe that.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammered. “I’m f-f-fine.”

Mr. Wayne gave Tim a skeptical once-over. Tim must look pathetic, covered in mud and soaking wet. “I know your parents, Timothy. Do you know who I am?”

Tim nodded jerkily. He was surprised Mr. Wayne recognized him. “B-Bruce W-W-Wayne.” _Batman,_ he didn’t add.

Mr. Wayne started walking closer, slowly, like Tim would run. “Would you like me to take you home? Your parents are probably worried.”

Tim flinched. He wasn’t even sure what country his parents were in right now. “Th-they aren’t h-h-home.”

“Alright. Would like to come to my home? We could get you into some clean clothes and then contact your parents.”

Tim didn’t want Mr. Wayne calling his parents. They would not be impressed to hear about how the richest man in Gotham had found Tim on the side of the road, like a stray dog. But his goal all along was to get into Wayne Manor, so he nodded again and carefully stood up. His legs felt wobbly, and he had to brace himself against the tree. Mr. Wayne offered him a hand, and Tim took it, even though he hadn’t held an adult’s hand since he was seven.

With both of them under the protection of the umbrella now, Mr. Wayne led Tim back to his car. “I-I’m a-all dirty,” Tim protested, as Mr. Wayne opened the passenger seat door for him.

Mr. Wayne just laughed. “It’s leather. Don’t worry about it. Get in.”

Tim hesitated – Tim’s father would _never_ allow him in to get mud in one of his fancy sports cars – but he obeyed. Mr. Wayne leaned over him and buckled him in, like a child. Tim had been buckling himself into cars since he’d been out of booster seats. Tim couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Mr. Wayne got into the driver’s seat. As they drove away, Tim couldn’t help but sneak curious glances at him – at _Batman_. He had plenty of pictures of Batman and Robin, but his pictures were all from far away. Despite his begging, his parents never brought him to the Wayne charity galas, so he rarely saw Mr. Wayne in person. And he’d never been so close to the man. If Mr. Wayne noticed the glances, he didn’t say anything.

The seats were heated, and the car was warm, which helped with Tim’s shivering and chattering teeth. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” Tim said after a few minutes.

“No problem, sport,” Mr. Wayne said warmly. “And call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne sounds too stuffy.”

“Yes, sir,” Tim said. _Bruce_. He could call Mr. Wayne by his first name!

“What were you doing by the road, anyways?” Bruce asked.

“Uh.” Tim squirmed in his seat. “I…didn’t want to be home right now. Without my parents.”

It sounded like a lie to his own ears, but he couldn’t exactly say, _Well, I overheard your son begging for Barbara Gordon to rescue him from you, so I figured I’d investigate. How did I overhear that? I hacked Batman’s old comm system a few years ago, and, oh yeah, I know you’re Batman. By the way, could you tell me why Nightwing and Robin aren’t patrolling anymore? Gotham and Bludhaven really need them._

“Who is staying with you?” Bruce said.

“…No one,” Tim admitted. “Mrs. Mac usually stays overnight on the weekdays to make sure I do my homework, and the staff is sometimes there. But it’s a Saturday, so it’s just me today.”

“I see.”

Bruce’s tone didn’t give away any emotion, but Tim shrunk further down into his seat. It was embarrassing to admit how distant his parents were. He felt like he was announcing to the world what a boring kid he was. His own parents didn’t want to spend time with him.

“My home is empty too, right now,” Bruce said, graciously not prying further. “My younger son, Jason, is in Europe with my butler, but my older one, Dick, is keeping me company.”

Tim would’ve believed him if Dick’s words – _Jason’s died_ – weren’t ringing in his ears. “What’re they doing in Europe?”

“Alfred, my butler, is originally from England. Jason has never left Gotham, and so for his birthday, I gave him a trip there with Alfred. He just turned fifteen. They grow up so fast. How old are you, now?”

There was no hint of dishonesty or sadness in Bruce’s tone. But this _was_ Batman. If anyone could hide the grief of losing a son, it would be Batman. _Bruce has lost his mind_ , Dick had said. Tim didn’t see any madness in Bruce’s face, just soft affection for his sons.

“Thirteen,” Tim said.

They pulled into the underground garage. Bruce leaned over and unbuckled Tim’s seatbelt. Tim gave him a small smile and stepped out of the car. The garage was thankfully heated. Tim tried not to gape at all the fancy, expensive cars around him. Tim’s family was rich but not _this_ rich. One of the nearby cars was smashed in the front. Bruce noticed Tim’s curious look. “Dick was a little too excited about the new car when he came home,” he explained and chuckled. “I’m billing that to his inheritance.”

Tim doubted the expense would make a noticeable dent in the vast fortune Dick would one day inherit.

Bruce led him to an elevator and up to the manor’s main floor. “Dick,” Bruce called loudly, as he directed Tim into the kitchen. “We have company!”

Bruce sat Tim down on a chair and then briefly left the room. He returned with towels, one of which he wrapped around Tim. He started drying off Tim’s hair. Tim wanted to say that he could do that himself, but it was nice, having someone help him with the little things.

“Much better,” Bruce said and dropped the towel on the floor. “I’ll make some hot chocolate to warm us up, and then we’ll find clean clothes for you.”

Tim nodded. He hoped Bruce wouldn’t force him to go home too soon. Tim still had an investigation to complete. Bruce went over to the fridge and began rummaging around for ingredients.

“Who’s here?” Dick Grayson – _the_ Dick Grayson, Nightwing, the original Robin – asked, as he entered the kitchen.

Tim couldn’t help but stare, wide-eyed. He was breathing the same air as _Dick Grayson_. Dick Grayson was _looking_ at him. Tim swallowed thickly.

“This is Timothy Drake. Have you met the Drakes?” Bruce said from his spot by the stove.

“Oh,” Dick said. His eyes went a little sad, and Tim wanted to hit himself. Tim’s presence probably reminded Dick of the worst night of Dick’s life. But then Dick broke into a bright, friendly smile that made Tim’s heart race. “You go by Tim, right? We actually met at the circus. Do you remember?”

“Y-yes,” Tim stammered, still awestruck. “Q-quadruple somersault. I remember.”

“Your mother sent me the picture they took of us. It’s one of the few pictures I have with my parents. I don’t know if I ever thanked her.”

There was a moment of silence. Dick looked lost in memories, and Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away from _Dick Grayson_.

Dick shook himself. “Anyway. What happened? You’re drenched.”

“I was caught in the storm,” Tim said, feeling his face warm. Wet and muddy was _not_ the way he wanted to meet Dick Grayson again. “Mr. Wayne – I mean, Bruce found me.”

Dick sent a suspicious look Bruce’s way. Bruce met the stare calmly. “I was driving back from WE,” Bruce explained, “and I spotted him by the road. Do you have any old clothes he could borrow?”

“Of course,” Dick said. “They’d be upstairs, though. Would you mind getting them? Bottom drawer of my dresser. I’ll finish the – is that hot chocolate?”

“I’m following Alfred’s recipe,” Bruce said. “Don’t add too much sugar. The milk is almost heated, so be careful if it starts to boil. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

For the first time, Tim noticed that Dick was wearing a medical boot. “I sprained my ankle in the woods last week,” Dick explained to Tim, as Bruce left the room, and Dick hobbled over to the stove. “I can do steps, but they’re a struggle.”

Tim had heard Dick’s calls for help last week, but both Nightwing and Robin hadn’t been spotted for almost three weeks. “You’ve been here that long?” Tim said, keeping his voice light. “My mother told me that you’re living in Bludhaven now.”

Dick began to stir in the cocoa mix. “I’ve actually been here almost a month. With Jason gone, Bruce wanted the company.”

Tim wasn’t sure if he was imagining the falter in Dick’s voice as he said Jason’s name. It could just be confirmation bias. “How long will you stay here then?”

Dick shrugged. “As long as Bruce wants me here.”

The wording was suspicious. Tim frowned. “When do _you_ want to leave?”

Dick paused stirring and turned to study Tim’s face. The smile had disappeared, and Dick looked pale and worn. Dick bit his lip – an action so human, Tim couldn’t look away for a long moment – and gave the kitchen entrance a nervous glance, clearly checking for Bruce. Dick met Tim’s eyes meaningfully. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” Dick said. “If you stay here much longer, you’ll realize that too.”

It sounded almost like a warning – definitely a strange thing to say. Despite himself, Tim shivered. Dick went back to stirring. “So,” Dick said, cheerful again, “tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

Tim swallowed. He liked to follow Batman and Robin around Gotham and take pictures of them. “Um, I like photography?”

Dick laughed. Tim wished he brought something to record the sound. Maybe he should transition from photography to videography. “You make it sound like a question, Timmy.”

A nickname! A nickname of a nickname but still. Tim was glad that Dick was focused on the hot chocolate and so couldn’t see Tim’s blush. “No one’s really asked me before,” Tim said.

“Oh.” Dick was quiet for a moment. “Well, I’m asking now. Tell me about photography. What do you like about it?”

Before Tim knew what was happening, he was babbling like idiot to Dick about lighting and contrast and darkrooms and how it felt to take that perfect shot. Dick hummed along, adding in questions and comments here and there. When the cocoa finished, Dick poured it into three cups and handed one to Tim.

“Don’t tell Bruce, but I added extra sugar,” Dick whispered conspiratorially. He sat in a chair next to Tim. “Wait – don’t drink now. I don’t want you burning you tongue.”

Tim cradled the mug to his chest, enjoying the warmth. “Um, sorry. I was rambling.”

“No, not at all,” Dick said, quirking another one of those bright, beautiful smiles. “It’s interesting. Bruce doesn’t talk much, so you’re giving me my conversation fix. How’d you get into photography, anyways?”

Dick’s attention was addicting, Tim realized as he opened his mouth again to talk about the first camera he’d received. The first picture he’d taken. How pictures were forever. He probably sounded like a pathetic loser with no friends, which he was, but that wasn’t something he wanted Dick to know. Tim would say anything, though, to keep Dick’s interested eyes on him.

The hot chocolate had cooled enough to drink when Bruce came back. “Did you leave some for me?”

“On counter,” Dick said, gesturing.

“Thank you,” Bruce said as he picked up the mug.

“Did you find the clothes, Bruce?” Dick asked. The suspicion was back.

“Yes,” Bruce said. He leaned against the counter. “Tim, I spoke with your parents.”

Tim cringed. He could only imagine what they had said after hearing about Tim’s little adventure. Dick placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, and it took Tim a moment to realize that it was a gesture of comfort.

“They said that they won’t be back for a few weeks,” Bruce continued. “I offered to take you in until then. Dick and I could use the company, but only if you want to stay.”

“He’d be bored here, Bruce,” Dick cut in. “There’s nothing to do.”

“More to do here and safer than alone by himself, without adult supervision,” Bruce shot back.

“By himself?” Dick echoed. He looked at Tim in concern.

“The staff is there on the weekdays, and Mrs. Mac usually stays the night,” Tim said defensively, fidgeting in his seat.

Dick squeezed his shoulder and glanced Bruce. “He’d be able to leave whenever he wanted, of course.” It almost sounded like a question.

“Of course,” Bruce replied.

“What about school?” Dick said.

“I just started summer vacation,” Tim said.

Dick gnawed on his lower lip again. “I guess some more company would be nice.”

“What do you think, sport?” Bruce said to Tim.

Tim nodded eagerly. “Yes. That sounds good. Thank you, Bruce.”

“We’ll get a room set up for you,” Bruce said. “You can shower and change into clean clothes there after you finish your hot chocolate. Tomorrow, we’ll fetch your things.”

“He should take my old room,” Dick said. “The guest rooms are creepy.”

Bruce huffed. “They’re not haunted, Dick. We’ve been over this.”

“The ghosts don’t bother you, because they’re _your_ ancestors,” Dick said stubbornly.

“Why aren’t they in your room, then?” Tim asked.

“Alfred showed me how to cleanse my room when I first moved in,” Dick said. His smile faltered. “Jason’s too. Besides, living in a room usually will send the dead away.”

“Don’t give the boy nightmares, Dick,” Bruce said. To Tim, he added, “The manor isn’t haunted. Dick was just an imaginative boy. He still can be.”

“I’m not afraid of ghosts,” Tim said honestly. “I live in Gotham. We have worse than ghosts.”

Dick laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “You’re not wrong, kiddo. But you should take my old room anyways.”

“Aren’t you using it?” Tim said.

Tim didn’t miss the way Dick and Bruce’s eyes met for a brief moment. “No,” Dick said. “I outgrew it. Bruce set me up in the room next to his. He likes to keep an eye on me.”

There was an awkward silence. Tim glanced between Dick’s stony face and Bruce’s calm, unreadable one. This just added to the evidence that Dick’s frantic message last week hadn’t been a misunderstanding. 

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim eventually said. “I like a ghost-less room.”

It broke the tension, and Dick was smiling again. “No problem, Timmy. I’m not using it.”

Bruce blew on his hot chocolate and took sip. He immediately grimaced. “Did you add extra sugar to this?”

Dick cackled. “No, Bruce. I would _never_.”

He winked at Tim. Tim couldn’t help but smile back. Bruce and Dick were a family in a way that Tim and his parents weren’t. Tim hoped that his investigation would last longer than expected, so that he could continue basking in the warmth of a real family.


	2. Talking about Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Bruce talk about Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to write and is really short. I struggled so much with this chapter, and I don't really like it, but it's done. Finally done. Oof.

Tim was strangely excited about seeing Dick’s old room. Dick wasn’t sure what to make of Tim’s bright, wide-eyed staring at Dick’s old posters and knick-knacks. The way Tim glanced back at Dick almost looked like hero-worship, but they hadn’t seen each other since Tim was a toddler. Still, Dick was glad that Tim was coming out of his shell.

“See?” Dick said cheerfully. “My room is much more lived in than the dusty guestrooms.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, a bit breathlessly.

“Bruce put some of my old pajamas in the bathroom for you. I’ve changed the sheets on the bed, and I’ve added a few blankets, in case you get cold,” Dick said. “If you need anything else in the night, feel free to knock on my door.”

“Thank you,” Tim said earnestly. “For this and, um, for letting me stay here for a bit. It’s really nice of you and Mr. Wayne – I mean, Bruce. I’ll try to stay out of the way while I’m here.”

Dick ruffled Tim’s hair. The kid, while suspicious, was adorable. “You won’t be in the way of anything. I’m excited to have someone besides Bruce to hang out with. Tomorrow, I can show the game room, if you want.”

Tim’s eyes widened even more, if that was possible. “Wow,” he said, gaping a little, before catching himself. “I mean, yes! I’d-I’d like that. A lot.”

With a final pat on the shoulder, Dick bade Tim goodnight and the left the room in search of Bruce.

Bruce was in the shower, so Dick waited on Bruce’s bed. When Bruce emerged, Dick said seriously, “We need to talk about Tim.”

Bruce, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist, didn’t look surprised to see him.

“Why did you bring him here?” Dick continued.

“Hm,” Bruce said, as he went to his closet.

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this!” Dick snapped.

Bruce was quiet as he changed into pajamas. Finally, he emerged from the closet and stood in front of Dick. “I don’t have any ulterior motives when it comes to Tim Drake,” Bruce said.

“Bullshit,” Dick said.

“Language,” Bruce said disapprovingly.

“I’m an adult, Bruce,” Dick said for what felt like the hundredth time in the past week. “I’m allowed to swear.”

“You’re still a teenager, Dick,” Bruce said, like he always did.

“We keep having this argument! I’m legally an adult. I have my own apartment. I had my own city to protect until you trapped me here!”

Pulling his knees to his chest probably didn’t make Dick appear less like a child, but contorting his body gave Dick comfort when he was stressed. Dick hated how the shift in position made Bruce’s eyes soften. When Bruce sat next to him on the bed and wrapped arm around Dick’s shoulders, Dick cringed but didn’t pull away. Dick constantly craved physical contact, and, locked in the manor, Bruce was his only source.

“I let you leave home at too young an age,” Bruce said.

“Seventeen wasn’t too young! We both agreed at the time-” Dick stopped and a took breath. “You know what, _no_. We are not having this argument again. We’re talking about Tim right now, and how you’ve dragged him into this – this _madhouse_.”

Bruce sighed. “I was driving home when I found him hiding behind a tree at the side of the road during a storm. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Except he’s now spending the whole month here. Maybe even the whole summer, if his parents don’t come back soon,” Dick said. “Bruce, he can’t replace Jason.”

Dick wouldn’t have felt Bruce’s minute flinch if they hadn’t been sitting so close. “I didn’t offer him a place to stay to replace Jason. I offered him a place to stay, because he needed one, and because he knows more than what he’s saying.”

“You picked up on that too, huh?” It was Dick’s turn to sigh. “Bruce, let it go. He’s literally a kid.”

“He’s asking questions about Jason. He clearly came here for a reason.”

“He’s harmless,” Dick said. “He’s a boy with too little parental supervision and too much free time, and he lives next door to us. But even if he’s figured out our nocturnal activities, it doesn’t mean anyone will believe him. And I don’t get the impression that Tim’s on the road to becoming a supervillain.”

Dick rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder and let out a contented noise as Bruce began stroking his hair. Without a doubt, Bruce was using physical affection to manipulate Dick, but Dick couldn’t help enjoying it.

“He might not pose a threat, but I want you to leave the investigating to me,” Bruce said. “Just to be safe.”

“He’s _thirteen_. Don’t interrogate him.”

“I doubt I’ll need to. He isn’t exactly subtle.”

Dick snorted. “Not everyone has been trained by ninjas. But Bruce, please, go easy on him?”

“Hm.” Bruce placed a kiss on the top of Dick’s head. “I think it’s past your bedtime, chum.”

Dick rolled his eyes. And they were back to _this_ argument. “I don’t have a bedtime. I’m nineteen!”

+++

The next morning, while Tim and Bruce went to get Tim’s things, Dick was confined to his room. Bruce had assured him that it wasn’t a punishment, simply a precaution. Dick spent the time walking around the room on his hands – it wasn’t pacing; really, it wasn’t – and staring at the locked door in apprehension. He could easily get out, but Bruce would know and then staying in his room _would_ be a punishment. Dick didn’t want to think about that, of the consequences of “misbehavior”.

An hour after they left, Dick broke. Staying in his room this long put him too much on edge. It reminded too much of past punishments.

His room was adjoined to Bruce’s. It wasn’t hard for him to pick the lock on the door separating their rooms. He flopped down on Bruce’s bed. The faint smell of Bruce’s expensive cologne shouldn’t comfort him, but it did. He hoped that Bruce wouldn’t count this as misbehaving. He’d followed the spirit of the law, if not the letter.

Two hours later, Bruce found him dozing. When Bruce came into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him, Dick immediately sat up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, Dick,” Bruce said, his eyes warm and affectionate. “I understand.”

Dick felt pathetic, but he couldn’t help the swell of gratitude. “Thanks.”

“Tim is putting away his things. We’ll have lunch when he’s done.”

“How did Tim seem this morning?” Dick asked. “He had rough afternoon yesterday.”

“Tired but in good spirits,” Bruce said. “Tim told me that he deals with a lot of insomnia. You could help him with that.”

“Bruce, I don’t need a replacement for Jason,” Dick said, feeling tired himself. “I only acted like his older brother, because _he_ needed one.”

“When you were younger, Alfred convinced me to let you go to a school instead of using private tutors,” Bruce said. “He thought that you required social interaction with people closer to your age. Alfred was right.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “The only person close to my age that you’ve let me get close to was Jason, because he was family. Even the Teen Titans are off limits. You said that Tim would only be here until his parents return. His parents who are very much alive. Tim can’t join our family.”

“I never suggested he would,” Bruce said mildly. “But his parents are rarely home, so he’ll probably have to stay with us often.”

“You can’t keep him!” Dick said, standing. Dick didn’t want anyone else stuck in the manor like he was, with Bruce acting so…unpredictably. “Bruce, listen to me; don’t involve Tim in this. He’s just a kid.”

“He needs a big brother, just like Jason did,” Bruce said.

Bruce was clearly trying to manipulate Dick, and he was succeeding. Because Bruce wasn’t wrong. Tim had looked so heartbreakingly happy when Dick had shown the most basic interest in Tim’s life. Tim clearly didn’t have many, if any, friends, and his parents were barely in the picture. Tim and Jason couldn’t be more different, except Tim craved attention and affection just like Jason reluctantly had.

“You aren’t – you aren’t thinking about making him a _Robin_ , are you?” Dick said, horrified by the sudden thought as his mind began to draw parallels between himself, Tim, and Jason.

“No,” Bruce said. “Maybe if Jason hadn’t – but no. No more Robins.”

“Good,” Dick said. “Jason and I needed Robin, but I don’t think Tim needs that too.”

“You and Jason should never have been Robin,” Bruce said.

And it was that old argument again. Dick and Bruce just kept having the same argument over and over again. It was exhausting. “Bruce…”

“I’ll be in the kitchen cooking lunch,” Bruce said and left the room.

Dick flopped back on the bed with a long sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is going along this journey with me! I appreciate all the kudos, warm vibes, and comments! Your comments especially inspire new ideas and directions for this fic. :D
> 
> Also, with the adjoined rooms thing, I'm putting my very bad history of mansions knowledge to use. So, back in the day, not sure when, apparently rich married couples would have separate bedrooms, to be like, hey, we're rich enough to have two matresses, and hey, we are not sexually attracted to each other. Not sure when, exactly, this was happening, but the Waynes helped build Gotham in, like, the 1600s-ish, I think, and probably built Wayne Manor in the 1700s or 1800s, so I think that counts as back in the day enough? So, that's why Wayne Manor has adjoined rooms for the master suite area. At least, that's what I'm going with. 
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](https://princessmariana-writes.tumblr.com/), where I post about small meltdowns and random Batfam questions while I write. :)


	3. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has two serious conversations. And there are cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Sorry for the slow update. I was sick, and then I couldn't decide how I wanted to end this chapter. But it's finally here. :)   
> (Thank you to everyone's well wishes on tumblr!)

Dick gave out physical affection so casually. Tim wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d gone his whole life with minimal physical contact – maybe a half hug or a kiss on the cheek from his mother once every few months. But Dick didn’t waste any opportunity to ruffle Tim’s hair or wrap an arm around Tim’s shoulders.

It was overwhelming. And amazing. He was having the best two months of his life. If his parents never returned to take him away, it’d be too soon.

“Hey, Timmy,” Dick said, flopping down on the couch next to Tim and plastering himself to Tim’s side. “What’re you reading?”

“Book on war strategies,” Tim said.

He offered Dick a smile. Tim had learned early on that if Tim smiled first, Dick’s matching grin was even brighter. Dick leaned over, resting his chin on Tim’s shoulder in a way that couldn’t be comfortable, and skimmed the page that Tim was on. “Is it interesting?” Dick asked.

If Tim turned his head, he’d be nose-to-nose with Dick, and Tim didn’t think his heart could survive that encounter. He kept his gaze focused on the book. “So far,” Tim said. “Bruce recommended it.”

Dick stiffened. “Yeah?” His cheerful tone sounded forced now. “Bruce does enjoy history.”

If it weren’t for moments like this, when Dick sounded wistful or sad or uncomfortable or, worse, all three, Tim could enjoy his summer in bliss. He could soak up Dick’s hugs and smiles and laughter and Bruce’s nods of approval and jovial shoulder claps.

But he’d come here on a mission – to help Dick Grayson. And Dick clearly needed help. While Bruce had occasionally taken Tim out to baseball games and museum trips, Tim hadn’t seen Dick go farther than the patio gardens. And while Dick and Bruce never fought in front of Tim, per se, there was a tension between them that had an ebb and flow to it. Sometimes Tim thought that they were close to shouting, and then Dick would duck his head, or Bruce would look away, and they’d be laughing together again, like nothing had happened.

The evidence was there. Dick’s radio message to Batgirl hadn’t been a misunderstanding, and Tim had a responsibility to help however he could. He’d already procrastinated too long.

“The weather’s nice today, so I was thinking about going outside. Want to come?” Tim said. He closed his book and daringly turned his head a fraction to meet Dick’s blue, blue eyes.

Tim’s heart beat frantically as Dick smiled at him, barely an inch away. “Sure, Timmy. I could stretch my legs. Should I grab Bruce?”

“No,” Tim said quickly as Dick withdrew. Tim already missed the warmth of Dick’s body. “He’s probably busy.”

“Great. Just the two of us then.” Dick ruffled Tim’s hair.

The weather was beautiful outside. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the summer flowers were blooming. Dick’s ankle had healed a month ago, so they walked at a normal pace, quiet for once. They eventually came across a bench and sat down. Dick drew one of his legs up to his chest, his foot on the bench seat, and rested his chin on his knee. The elegant arch of his back didn’t look comfortable, but Tim had also learned early on that positions uncomfortable for everyone else were comfortable for Dick Grayson.

Tim sat on the other end of the bench, leaning his side against the bench’s back and facing Dick. On his previous walks, he hadn’t found any mics or cameras in the garden area, like there were in the manor. Even if Bruce was paranoid enough to bug the garden, Tim still had a better chance of hiding this conversation from Bruce while outside than in the heavily bugged manor.

“Nightwing hasn’t been spotted in over two months,” Tim said.

“Really? That’s weird,” Dick said.

“Neither has Robin.” Tim scanned Dick’s face, but Dick didn’t betray any emotion beyond light curiosity.

“Do you think there might be a link?” Dick said innocently.

“Dick, I know that you’re Nightwing, and that Jason is – _was_ Robin, and that Bruce is Batman,” Tim said.

“I know.”

Tim stared. “You knew that I knew?”

Dick shrugged, his mouth quirking into a familiar grin. “You’re pretty clever for a civilian, but Batman is the world’s greatest detective, and he trained me, so we both figured it out on your first day here.”

“Seriously?” Tim said. “Why didn’t you say anything? It’s been two months!”

“No reason to.” Dick gave a small laugh. “You didn’t seem like you were here for nefarious purposes. How long have you known?”

“Since I was seven,” Tim admitted. “I recognized a flip you did as Robin on TV. It was the same one that you showed me at the circus. Quadruple somersault.”

“Huh. Clever.”

Tim ducked his head at the praise. Like physical affection, Dick was generous with kind remarks. “Um, did you ever figure out why I came here?” Tim said nervously.

“No. At first, we figured it had to do with Jason. You asked a lot of questions about him when you first came, so maybe you had noticed that Robin was gone. But Robin had only been out of the field for a few weeks, and he’d been out for longer before.” Dick shrugged again. “If it was important, you would say something. Again, you don’t come across as a bad person.”

“That’s rather trusting,” Tim said.

Dick laughed. “That’s _my_ thought process, anyway. Bruce is still a little suspicious, but he likes you, and you’re a kid, so he didn’t want to give you the whole Batman interrogation.”

Tim’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Uh, that’s good.”

“Why did you come? Not that we mind you being here - it’s actually nice that you came - but why?”

Tim took a deep breath and opened his mouth. He closed it and took another deep breath. It took a few tries, but finally he blurted out, “I heard your call to Batgirl.”

Dick’s whole body stiffened, and the foot that he had on the bench dropped to the ground. “What?”

“I hacked into your old comms a few years ago, and since I haven’t been able to hack into the new ones, I kept the line open. Even if it’s usually just static, it’s nice to have on in the background.” Tim didn’t add that the static from the old comms helped him sleep at night. “I heard you say that Jason was dead, and that Bruce had gone crazy. And then Nightwing and Robin stopped showing up around that time, and the Joker has been missing, and I just wanted to know that you were okay, and if maybe it was all a misunderstanding or something.” Tim bit his lip to stop his rambling.

“Oh.” Dick studied the ground.

“It’s…true, isn’t it?” Tim said cautiously.

Dick looked up again, meeting Tim’s eyes, “Yes. What you heard was – _is_ true. Jason’s dead. The Joker killed him almost three months ago. Bruce has been keeping me here since then.”

“Wow.” It was strange, hearing that aloud, making it real.

“Look, Tim,” Dick said before Tim could figure what to say next. “I don’t want you getting involved in this, okay? Bruce can be really dangerous.”

“But you two seem to get along so well,” Tim said. He’d seen the signs that Dick was trapped at the manor, and Dick had just confirmed it. But Tim was struggling to put together the Bruce whom Dick laughed and joked with and the Bruce who clearly scared Dick.

“Batman was too paranoid to let me have close friends in the caped community, and it’s hard to make civilian friends while being Nightwing at night and Bruce Wayne’s son during the day. So, with Jason dead and Alfred gone in Europe somewhere, Bruce is all I have. He’s my family. And even though he’s doing all of this -” Dick grimaced. “- I still can’t help but love him.”

“Why is he keeping you here?” Tim asked.

“Tim-” Dick said, a mixture of concern and exasperation. 

“It’s my last question,” Tim said quickly. “I just want to know why.”

“He thinks he’s doing it for my benefit,” Dick said. “I’m safer at the manor than going out at night. But he’s really doing it for his own sake. Jason’s death really screwed him up. He doesn’t want to lose another son. Now promise me, Tim, that you’ll leave this alone. Bruce can’t know that you know about Jason or me.”

“I won’t approach Bruce,” Tim said sincerely. “I promise.”

It would be an easy promise to keep, because, during their talk, Tim had noticed a tiny gleam of reflected light coming from a nearby tree trunk. Tim had been wrong – Bruce had this spot under surveillance. Tim wouldn’t need to approach Bruce, because Bruce would be approaching him.

But Dick didn’t need to know that.

+++

Dick had been helping Tim with Tim’s insomnia, but none of Dick’s meditation techniques were working. There was too much on his mind, and Tim could not focus enough on meditating to fall asleep. Bruce didn’t scare Tim, exactly, but the impending conversation made Tim anxious. Tim wasn’t sure how Bruce would react. During dinner, despite Dick’s unsubtle worried glances, Bruce hadn’t said anything.

Tim sighed and slipped out of bed. He resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get any asleep tonight. He quietly crept out of his room. In the hallway, he noticed a faint light under the crack of Dick’s door.

Dick had said that Tim could knock on his door anytime, if Tim had a nightmare or was just struggling to sleep. Tim had never taken him up on it, but right now Tim didn’t really want to be alone downstairs while his mind raced.

He raised a hand to knock.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Tim jumped as Bruce materialized out of the shadows. “Sorry,” Tim said automatically. “I just- I didn’t mean to bother-”

“I doubt Dick would mind, but I would like to talk to you first. Come with me.” It was obviously a command, not a request.

Tim swallowed, wide eyed. Here it was, the talk he’d anticipated and dreaded. “Yes, sir.”

Tim followed Bruce into Bruce’s personal sitting room. Bruce took a seat in one of the armchairs and gestured at the chair beside him. Tim sat and tried not to squirm as Bruce quietly watched him.

Predictably, Tim was the first to speak. “What, uh, did you want to talk about?”

“Early today, I overheard your conversation with Dick,” Bruce said.

“What – what exactly did you hear?”

“Everything,” Bruce said. His voice was calm, but Tim always struggled to read Bruce’s emotions. Tim hoped the calm wasn’t a façade for anger. “Do you know why I won’t let him leave the manor?”

“To keep him safe?” Tim said hesitantly.

“I took Dick in when he was eight,” Bruce said. “His parents were murdered in front of him, just like mine. I wanted to help him, keep him safe, so that he wouldn’t be alone. As Batman, I tracked down his parents’ killer, but Dick found him first. That night, I decided to train Dick to become Robin. I thought I was helping him find peace through justice, but I was really leading him down my same dangerous path. I can’t change the past, but I can ensure that I lose only one son to this life.”

Tim soaked up the history – he hadn’t known Robin had taken down Zuko; that was so cool – but, at the same time, he wasn’t sure why Bruce was telling him this. He’d expected Bruce to threaten him into silence or something. “Dick thinks you’re being selfish,” Tim said and then winced. That was not the best response.

“I don’t disagree with him. Keeping him with me, in Gotham, is a risk. There are many other cities where he would be safer. I’ll always be selfish when it comes to my family, but I won’t be selfish enough to allow Dick to die defending Bludhaven.”

Tim briefly wondered if his own father cared about Tim’s safety to that degree. He shook away the thought. His father cared about him. (Probably.) Even if he didn’t usually show it.

After a long pause, Bruce said, “Answer me honestly – will you help Dick escape?”

Tim knew that Bruce would if he lied. “That’s why I came here,” Tim confessed.

“Is that why you stayed?”

Tim had stayed because of hair ruffles and warm smiles. He should’ve approached Dick sooner, but he hadn’t wanted the summer to end. Bruce had obviously picked up on that. Tim shook his head. “I…No, not really.”

“So, will you help Dick escape?”

Tim bit his lip, thinking. That had been his goal – to rescue his hero. But if Dick did manage to leave the manor, then Dick would either go back to his apartment in Bludhaven or, most likely, run as far away from Gotham – and Tim – as possible. Tim didn’t want that. He didn’t want Dick to leave. “I should,” Tim said. “But no. I…I won’t.”

Bruce studied Tim’s face for a long moment before nodding. “Good.”

“What would you have done if I’d said yes?” Tim asked curiously.

“It wouldn’t matter,” Bruce said. “Dick won’t leave while you’re here. He’s too protective of you. If you left, then you couldn’t help him escape. Either way, Dick stays.”

“Oh.” Tim felt a rush of warmth – Dick was _protective_ of Tim. No one was ever protective of Tim. Maybe Tim could stick up for Dick too, be protective in his own way, even if Tim wouldn’t help Dick leave. Cautiously, he said, “Dick isn’t happy here.”

“He’ll adjust,” Bruce said. “He’s been smiling more since you came.”

“Really?” Tim couldn’t imagine Dick being anything less than his bubbly, smiling self. But then he remembered the shuttered look that would occasionally cross Dick’s face when Dick didn’t think Tim was looking or sometimes when they were discussing Bruce.

“Yes,” Bruce said. “He enjoys your company. He always liked being a big brother.”

Tim had to remind himself that he was just temporarily filling in the gap that Jason had left. Eventually, Dick and Bruce would move on. When the summer ended, Tim would go home, and Dick would lose interest in him, like everyone else did, and it would hurt, so much. Losing Bruce’s attention would also hurt, though not as much, because Tim was used to father figures leaving him. But Tim still enjoyed the thought that, even for just a few months, he would belong to this little family.

“Dick might be happier if-” Tim stopped. He wasn’t sure if he should be giving Bruce advice about his son. So far, Bruce didn’t seem angry or offended by anything Tim had done or said, but Tim didn’t want to push his luck.

“If what?” Bruce said.

“If he could still be involved with Batman, somehow,” Tim said. “Is there stuff he could from the manor? Organize case files, or something?”

“Hmm…” Bruce frowned in contemplation for a long moment. Eventually, he said, “I will think about it.”

“Thank you,” Tim said.

“I’ve kept you up late enough,” Bruce said, standing. “Was there something you needed to talk to Dick about?”

“Um.” Tim blushed, embarrassed. “No. I just couldn’t, uh, sleep.”

Bruce smiled warmly. “Jason would sneak into Dick’s bed after a nightmare. Dick won’t mind, even if he’s already asleep.”

Tim’s face burned brighter. He’d just wanted to hang out with Dick until he felt sleepy, not sleep in the same bed as Dick. It felt like asking too much. Even as a child, he was never allowed to climb into bed with his parents, like he knew some other children did.

Bruce ushered Tim out of the room and back to Dick’s door. Bruce gently squeezed Tim’s shoulder. “Good night, sport.”

“Good night,” Tim said meekly, his eyes fixed on the door.

Bruce left, and Tim cautiously knocked on the door. “Come in,” Dick called, his voice muffled through the door.

Tim entered the room. Dick was already in bed, but the light was on, and he was holding a book and a pen. “Oh, hey, Tim,” Dick said. “I was expecting Bruce. What’re you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Tim said sheepishly. “I hope I’m not bothering you?”

“No, I’m just doing some word puzzles,” Dick said. He set the book and pen down on the nightstand. “I was having trouble sleeping too. Do you want me to make some hot chocolate? That usually helps. We could play a boardgame until you fall asleep, if you’d like.”

That’d been what Tim had wanted initially, but… “Could I actually, uh, stay?” Tim said. “Here, I mean? If that’s not too much trouble?”

“Stay here?” Dick repeated. His eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yes. Of course. C’mon up.” He shifted the blankets aside.

“Are you sure?” Tim said, creeping forward.

Dick laughed. “Yeah! We can cuddle away the insomnia! It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Though he’d never been to a sleepover, Tim didn’t think cuddling was usually on the agenda, but he wasn’t going to question it. He scrambled up onto the bed. Dick tucked to blankets around Tim. “Do you want to talk some, or should I turn off the light?” Dick asked.

Tim was already feeling sleepy. The blankets were soft and cozy, and Dick was warm and comforting. He yawned involuntarily. Dick laughed and turned off the lamp. Dick then snuggled in next to Tim and draped an arm around Tim, tugging him close. “Good night, Tim,” Dick said softly.

Tim drifted off before he could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been some comments asking why Dick isn't actively trying to escape, and so I'm in the midst of writing a one-shot to hopefully explain that. Stay tuned! :)
> 
> A quick note about the last scene - so, generally, a 13 y/o sleeping in the same bed with a 19 y/o non-family member could raise some red flags. In case any of y'all are concerned, while I'm not sure if ships will start popping up in this series, none of them will have minor/adult romantic relationships. (But there will be a ton of cuddling and hugging and sketchy relationship dynamics that would raise red flags irl.) 
> 
> (Nothing against works with those kind of relationships - I respect a fanfic author's right to write whatever, as long as they use proper tags and warnings - It just doesn't fit my (very, very vague) vision for this series.)
> 
> (Also, if any of y'all have shipping ideas, let me know. Idk if I'll go that route, but all thoughts are appreciated!)


	4. Blueberry Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred returns, and Dick and Tim get access to the Batcave. Bruce is still a jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...hi? *hides* It's been a bit, since I've updated. Life has been hectic. I'm on the job hunt and trying to relocate across the country, which has consumed all of my mental energy. However, now that I'm finally interviewing, the anxiety drove me back to this fic. So, here's this chapter. I'll hopefully have the next one up within a week. 
> 
> I apologize for the delay in responding to comments and tumblr asks and whatnot. Thank you for all the support! Even if I'm not on top of responding, I read everything and really appreciate it. :)

Tim was adorable, sound asleep, his hair ruffled and mouth agape, sprawled all over Dick. Dick had no plans to move. He loved cuddling, and he didn’t want to disturb Tim’s sleep. The kid needed more sleep. Jason –

Dick took a moment to center himself before completing the thought. He needed to keep Jason’s memory alive, even though it hurt. It would hurt more if he let the memories fade.

Jason had been a light sleeper. As soon as Dick would wake up, Jason would be scrambling out of bed and hiding in the kitchen with Alfred, pretending like nothing had happened. Dick hadn’t minded. He’d just been glad that he could help Jason with his nightmares. And now Dick was helping Tim too. 

“Breakfast,” Bruce announced from the doorway, holding a tray of food.

Dick carefully shifted into a half-sitting position. Tim barely stirred and remained sprawled on Dick’s lap. “Thanks, Bruce,” Dick said. Then he frowned. “That doesn’t look like your cooking.”

While Bruce’s cooking was good, especially compared to Dick’s, Bruce never varied the menu. They’d been having veggie omelets for breakfast every morning – not blueberry pancakes with sausage and potatoes.

“Alfred’s back,” Bruce said and handed Dick a plate, as if Alfred’s return wasn’t a huge, unexpected bombshell.

“What?” Dick said. “ _When_?”

He wanted to jump out of bed and race downstairs to see Alfred with his own eyes, but he wouldn’t be able to disentangle himself from Tim without waking him, and Tim needed sleep more than Dick needed his curiosity sated. Dick could be patient.

Bruce set down the tray and sat on the edge of the bed. “I called him last night, and he arrived this morning. He’s unpacking his things now.”

“I thought he went back to England,” Dick said.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around Alfred suddenly coming home, but one bite of the pancakes confirmed that Alfred had made them. No one could mimic Alfred’s pancakes.

“He spent some time abroad, but these last few weeks, he’s been in Metropolis,” Bruce said.

“But…” Dick bit his lip, trying to gather his thoughts. “Why’d you call him now?”

“It was time,” Bruce said, like that explained anything.

“That’s super vague,” Dick said.

Bruce didn’t reply.

Dick ate his food in silence while Bruce watched him. Tim slept through it all. Occasionally, he would tighten his arms around Dick’s waist, and Dick would stroke Tim’s hair until he settled again.

“You’re a good older brother,” Bruce said as Dick finished his last few bites.

“I wish we could keep him,” Dick said wistfully before catching himself and saying more firmly, “But we _can’t_ keep him.”

Dick didn’t know if the reminder was more for Bruce or for himself.

“Hmm,” Bruce said.

“It’s nice, having him around,” Dick admitted. “But…we discussed this. He already has a family. He doesn’t need us.”

“It’s Tim’s decision,” Bruce said.

Dick glared at Bruce. “That isn’t what we agreed.”

“I only agreed that he wouldn’t become Robin,” Bruce said.

“He’s too young to make that kind of decision!” Dick snapped, perhaps too loudly.

“Dick?” Tim slurred blearily without opening his eyes.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Dick soothed. He rubbed Tim’s back gently. “Go back to sleep, Timmy.”

Tim hummed sleepily and cuddled closer. Dick waited until the kid was back into a deep sleep before saying in a softer, but no less fierce, tone, “He’s just a child, Bruce.”

Bruce’s eyes were dark in a way Dick hadn’t seen before – possessive. Dick automatically flinched. “You’re very protective of him,” Bruce said. “You’re already treating him like a brother.”

“He’s _not_ a part of our family,” Dick said.

“It’s Tim’s decision,” Bruce said again.

“Tim wouldn’t-”

“We talked last night,” Bruce said. “About your conversation in the garden.”

“I thought I saw a camera,” Dick gritted out, angry at himself for not thoroughly checking. The gardens used to have less surveillance. He and Jason used to hide there to have conversations that they didn’t want Bruce to overhear. “Did you demand answers? Interrogate him? Is that why he couldn’t sleep?”

A horrible part of Dick hoped so – hoped that Tim had been scared enough to stay away from Bruce – and Batman – forever.

“No. He was already up when I found him. We merely talked. He wants to stay,” Bruce said.

Dick thought about Tim’s family situation. He was an only child, and his parents were rarely home. He had no other local family, no friends, probably bullied at school – it wasn’t surprising that Tim would prefer life at the manor. Dick wondered, though, if Tim really understood what becoming part of their family would mean.

“He deserves a normal life,” Dick said.

“You do too,” Bruce said. “I could find a safe place, somewhere, for you to live a normal life.”

They knew that that was a lie. Maybe – _maybe_ – Bruce would’ve meant it before Jason’s death, but this new, changed Bruce would never willingly let Dick out of his sight and influence. But Dick pretended that it wasn’t a lie for both their sakes. He scoffed, “I could never have a normal life. I was a born in the circus. You can take the boy out of the circus, but you-”

“-can’t take the circus out of the boy,” Bruce finished fondly. Dick looked at Bruce – really looked at him. Bruce almost seemed normal in this moment, like the Bruce from Dick’s childhood – warm eyes, gentle smile. Bruce ruined the façade immediately. “I’ve arranged with Tim’s parents to keep Tim here for at least the next year. I’ll either send him to your old school or set up an independent learning curriculum for him.”

For a spiteful moment, Dick hated Tim’s parents for abandoning their son so easily, for just guilelessly handing Tim over to Bruce. “I don’t like this,” Dick said.

“You don’t have to.” Bruce reached over and took Dick’s plate. “I’ve decided to allow both of you boys into the Batcave. I know you miss the gymnasium, and Tim probably would love it if you taught him some tricks. He used to be on a gymnastics team.”

Bruce was almost out of the room by the time Dick’s mind caught up. “Wait – What?”

Bruce paused by the door. “While I won’t allow you in the field, your assistance on case files would be…useful.”

And then Bruce was gone. Dick couldn’t even chase after him like he normally would.

+++

Alfred was sight for sore eyes. The posh elderly man wasn’t tactile by nature, but Alfred accepted Dick’s hug without complaint.

“I missed you,” Dick said, a little tearfully. “It’s been…difficult without Jason.”

Alfred smiled sadly, the grief clear in his eyes. “I have missed you as well. I believe Master Jason’s passing will stay heavy on our hearts for a long while.”

Dick hugged him again, needing the comfort. “He was just…so young. Too young, and I…”

“I know, Master Dick,” Alfred said. “Any age is too young, but a child’s passing is especially cruel.”

They had a long, mournful moment of silence. Seeing Alfred again brought back more painful memories of Jason. Jason and Alfred had shared a tight bond. Alfred had been more successful at bringing Jason out of his shell than Bruce had. Dick couldn’t even imagine the pain Alfred must be in. Dick had lost a brother, but Alfred had lost a grandson.

Not for the first, Dick wondered how Bruce felt losing a son. Bruce had reacted to Jason’s death with extreme actions but had barely spoken about his feelings.

“Master Bruce told me that Master Tim’s presence boosted your spirits,” Alfred said after some time.

Dick nodded. “Tim’s been great to have around. It’s just…” He gnawed on his lip.

“You have concerns,” Alfred said, not as a question.

“Yeah,” Dick said. “He – Bruce didn’t – isn’t reacting well to – y’know. Our relationship has…changed. A lot. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for Tim to be around Bruce when he’s acting like…this.”

Dick wasn’t sure how much Alfred knew about the situation, but even being away for so long, Alfred must’ve noticed that Brue was…different, to put it lightly.

“I agree,” Alfred said, “but Master Bruce is committed to taking Master Tim in on a permanent basis.”

That was Alfred-speak for Alfred had argued with Bruce about Tim, and Bruce refused to budge.

“He’s taken away Nightwing, and I can’t leave the manor,” Dick said. “He’s acting really paranoid all the time. Is there – do you –” Dick wasn’t sure how to ask the question.

“There isn’t anything that I can do. I cannot betray Master Bruce,” Alfred said regretfully.

So Dick was alone.

He wasn’t surprised. Alfred and Bruce’s relationship was complicated. They were extremely close, and Bruce always considered Alfred’s advice, even if he sometimes didn’t follow it, but Bruce was head of the household. Alfred wouldn’t break Bruce’s trust, because, on a personal level, their relationship would suffer, and, on a practical level, Bruce might force Alfred out of the manor and out of their lives. That would break Bruce to be without Alfred, especially by his own hand.

“I appreciate the honesty,” Dick said. “If I ever do leave, can you promise to look after Tim for me?”

“Of course, Master Dick.”

+++

Bruce kept his word and let Dick help out with missions from the safety of the Batcave. At night, Dick coordinated calls, organized case files, and just kept an eye on things, while Tim geeked out over the bat-tech. During the day, Dick taught Tim circus secrets and tricks in the training room.

It felt good to practice acrobatics again, and it was even more fun with Tim around. The kid was enthusiastic and eager to learn. Bruce always kept an eye on them – Dick specifically – when he wasn’t on patrol, either by physically staying in the cave or by trailing one of the surveillance cameras on them.

When Bruce wasn’t physically around to say no, Dick taught Tim basic self-defense. He didn’t want Tim to become Robin, obviously. The kid was so tiny. Dick wasn’t sure he’d survive patrol in Gotham. Dick hadn’t been optimistic about Jason either, when Jason had been Tim’s age, but Jason at least had street smarts from being raised the Narrows. Tim was a little too trusting and wide-eyed.

It was great to have access to the Batcomputer again, but Dick still couldn’t access the files that he really wanted to see. He waited for the perfect moment when they wouldn’t be interrupted to confront Bruce. The opportunity came after Bruce spent a long night out on patrol.

A perk to Batcave access was that Dick could force Bruce to sit still while Dick administered medical aid. Usually, Alfred took point, but Dick had so much free time now that Bruce had…relieved him from duty, so Dick insisted on taking on the responsibility.

That night, Bruce had some shallow cuts that Dick was disinfecting. It was late enough that both Tim and Alfred were asleep. Only Dick had waited up for Bruce.

“Can we talk?” Dick said, trying to sound casual. He didn’t want Bruce to immediately shut down the conversation.

Bruce wasn’t fooled. He raised a cynical eyebrow. “You’ve never required my permission to talk.”

Dick glared at Bruce as Dick continued to dab disinfectant on Bruce’s cuts, a bit more forcefully than necessary, but the bastard didn’t even flinch from the pain. “Yes, but I would _appreciate_ it if you listened.”

This was exactly why Dick and Bruce had fought so much before Jason’s passing. They communicated differently. Dick liked to talk things out, while Bruce liked to tell Dick what to do and what to think. It’d been fine when Dick was ten, but now Dick was an adult, so it was infuriating. And definitely all Bruce’s fault – at least, from Dick’s point of view. He could acknowledge that he was a bit biased.

Dick took Bruce’s silence – and patronizing look – as a go-ahead to continue talking. “Why don’t I have access to files on the Joker?”

Bruce’s expression hardened, allowing no emotion or tells to seep through the non-existent cracks. “You don’t need access to those files.”

“Bruce, I’m not going to go after the Joker,” Dick said. “I can’t leave. You’ve made sure of that. But I want to know what’s happening. Have you tossed him into Arkham yet?”

Bruce didn’t even twitch. “No.”

Dick froze. “You mean Jason’s killer is still free out there?”

“No.”

Dick wanted to bang his head against a wall. “You’re not making sense.” He continued treating Bruce’s wounds, his movement becoming more and more aggressive with each word. “I’m completely cut off from everything. All I know is that this _madman_ killed my baby brother. I don’t know if he’s been punished yet. I don’t if he’s wreaking havoc on Gotham. I don’t know _anything_ , and I _hate_ it. I-”

Bruce grabbed Dick’s wrist before Dick’s jabbing created bruises. “Dick, let go. I have it handled.”

“What does that even _mean?_ ” Dick said.

“I am keeping you in the dark for your own wellbeing.”

Even though Bruce was sitting while Dick stood over him, Bruce’s gaze was intense and made Dick feel small and weak. Dick _hated_ that feeling.

“Fine,” Dick snapped, yanking his wrist out of Bruce’s grasp. “Don’t tell me anything. Have it your way.”

He stomped out of the cave without a backwards glance.

+++

A week later, Dick made his escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Dick's going to make some serious moves, and Tim will officially pick a side.


	5. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim reacts to Dick's escape.

Gentle fingers stroked through Tim’s hair. With a contented sigh, he snuggled closer into the pile of blankets on his bed.

“Good night, Tim,” Dick murmured.

If Tim had been more awake, he might have noticed the sad tone to the words, but Tim was blissfully on the brink of a deep sleep. Dick tucked the blankets snuggly around him, as if he were a small child. Tim sleepily enjoyed the affectionate gesture. Before Dick moved away, Tim felt his pillow lift and the rustle of paper.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said quietly. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. Alfred will look after you.”

Tim felt a vague sense of alarm that was eased when Dick placed a light kiss against on his hair. “Sleep well, baby bird,” Tim heard Dick say before Tim succumbed to sleep.

+++

Tim drowsily woke as sunlight began to filter through the curtains and onto his face. Tim loved lazy mornings. School was out, and there were no expectations for him at Wayne Manor, so Tim could just stay in bed until Dick dragged him to breakfast. Dick had –

Suddenly, Tim bolted upright, eyes wide, as he remembered Dick’s visit last night and his ominous words. Had it been a dream? Dick had sounded like he was saying goodbye, but Dick couldn’t leave the manor. It must’ve been a dream.

Just to be sure, Tim checked under his pillow. To his horror, he saw a folded-up piece of paper with his name written on it in Dick’s sloppy scrawl. Tim trembled as he unfolded the letter and read it.

_Tim,_

_If you’re reading this, I’ve either successfully left the manor, or Bruce caught me, and I’m locked up somewhere. Regardless, I’m sorry that I couldn’t say goodbye in person, but I couldn’t risk Bruce finding out._

_I won’t be gone too long. I owe it to Jason to get to the bottom of a few things, which is why I had to leave, but when I’m done, I’ll come back. Alfred and Bruce will look after you while I’m gone. I still don’t trust Bruce, but I wouldn’t leave you alone with him if I thought he’d hurt you._

_Remember to sleep. As I’m sure Alfred will insist, drink tea, not coffee. You’re still growing, kiddo. Also, get some sunshine. The library is fun and all, but this summer weather will be over before you know it._

_Best,_

_Dick_

_PS: Do me a favor – if Bruce gets too mopey, drag him out of the cave to play chess or whatever you nerds like to do. He’s more bark than bite when stressed, and I’m sure your puppy dog eyes work as well as mine did at your age._

By the time Tim had finished reading, his heart was beating frantically. Dick was gone – or at least had tried to escape. Mind racing, Tim quickly did the math. Dick had come into his room to drop off the letter shortly after Tim had gone to bed, so Dick had probably made his escape attempt at the most eight hours ago. If Dick had gone on foot, he might still be close enough to find.

Tim struggled to untangle himself from the blankets as he scrambled out of bed. He had to find Bruce.

As he raced out of his room and toward the stairs, the closed door to Jason’s room made him freeze. He stared at it for a long moment. In the letter, Dick had said that he was investigating something for Jason, almost certainly related to Jason’s death.

While Dick had been the original Robin, and so Tim’s favorite, Tim had admired Jason a lot too. Jason had been an even more reckless Robin, doing whatever it took to save the day. He’d been so _cool_ and brave and kind, just like Dick, but with more bravado. Would Tim be dishonoring Jason’s memory by getting in the way of Dick’s investigation?

Tim chewed on his lip as he thought hard. He wanted Dick to stay with them. This was the best of summer of Tim’s life, and a large part of that was because of Dick. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to be alone again.

On the other hand, Jason deserved justice. He’d died because of his fight to keep Gotham safe. Before his death, Jason had been one of Tim’s heroes. Tim owed Jason so much.

Then again, Tim remembered Bruce’s words about keeping Dick safe. Gotham was dangerous by itself, but Dick would be putting himself at even more risk by purposefully seeking trouble without backup or his Nightwing gear. Dick could – Tim felt the blood drain from his face, because Dick – he could – he could _die_.

Tim didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Dick. Two Robin’s just…gone. And Dick was now more than just Robin to Tim. He was the closest thing to what felt like family that Tim had ever had.

God, how would _Bruce_ feel if he lost another son?

“Bruce!” Tim shouted, returning to his sprint.

Alfred met him at the bottom of the stairs with a raised eyebrow. “Good morning, Master Tim.”

“Dick’s gone!” Tim blurted out. “I have to talk to Bruce!”

“He is already aware,” Alfred said. “You can find him in the Batcave.”

“Thanks, Alfred!” Tim said, already darting away. “And, uh, good morning!”

It was a miracle that Tim didn’t sprain anything on the way down to the Batcave, but Tim couldn’t restrain his urgency. Dick was gone and probably in mortal danger.

Bruce was at the Batcomputer, the screens all filled with video files. He was scanning them, his mouth set in a scowl.

“He really left,” Tim said, out of breath. “How?”

Bruce kept his eyes fixed on the screens as he replied, “I will find out soon enough.”

“He left me a letter,” Tim said.

Bruce turned his head sharply to look at Tim. “What?”

Tim handed him the paper. Bruce skimmed its contents and let out a growl. “ _Reckless_.”

“Is he…Will you find him before he gets hurt?” Tim asked nervously.

“Yes,” Bruce said. “He won’t be able to hide from me.”

“How -” Tim took a deep breath as he mustered up the courage to betray Dick even further. “How can I help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but it's all I really wanted to convey from Tim's pov. The next chapter will be longer, and I should have it up sometime this weekend.
> 
> Thank you for the comments from the last chapter! Interviews stress me the heck out, so they were a much-needed positive emotional boost to read them this week. :)


	6. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick escapes and asks his friends for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter all mapped out and half-written, and then I began reading comments from the last chapter, and I completely changed my mind on how I wanted this to go. So, I scrapped what I had and wrote this.

Outthinking the world’s greatest detective was tricky. Dick couldn’t act predictably. He also couldn’t act unpredictably in predictable way. Or act unpredictably in a predictable unpredictable predictable way.

His mind had been tied in knots, since he’d officially began planning his escape.

Getting out wasn’t the issue. He’d covertly learned the Drakes’ housekeeper’s schedule from Tim. The night before he knew that she would be checking up on the Drake residence, Dick slipped away. Since he now had access to the Batcave, he was able to gather supplies from the Batcave. A grappling hook was all he needed to get over the manor’s fence.

Bruce’s sensors would alert Bruce of his escape, but Bruce wouldn’t get back in time to stop Dick, and Bruce’s surveillance ended about a mile from the manor.

Dick had hidden in the Drakes’ garden until morning, when he asked the housekeeper for a ride, with some story about a fight with Bruce and a broken-down car. The friendly woman had recognized him and been more than happy to help.

Now, Dick was finally back in Gotham. Using money stolen from Bruce’s wallet, he took five cabs all around the city to confuse his trail and then found one of the few phone booths left in Gotham. He plastered on a mask and pulled his baggy hoody over his head and made a call.

_“Harper.”_

“It’s N,” Dick said. “I need a favor.”

_“Your last ‘favor’ caused a three-month prank war.”_

Dick couldn’t help but grin. “It’ll involve pissing off both B and GA,” he coaxed.

 _“…I’m listening,”_ Roy said.

“I can’t explain here, but I need to get out of Gotham, ASAP,” Dick said.

Roy sighed loudly from the other end. _“One sec.”_ Dick heard muffled voices and then Roy was back. _“KF is pissed at you. You’ve been AWOL for months. He won’t do a retrieval, because he’s a petty bastard.”_

“Tell him it was a family thing.”

A few seconds later, Roy said, _“Yeah. That worked. We’ve tracked your location. He’s on his way.”_

Dick hung up and waited, hoping that Batman wouldn’t find him in the next few minutes. He was so close to freedom.

“Rob!” Wally said, materializing with a cloud of dust behind him. Kid Flash, like the rest of his family, sucked at being discreet.

Dick pulled him into a hug. “Missed you.”

“Three months!” Wally complained. “No word for _three months_.”

“I can’t explain here,” Dick said.

Wally rolled his eyes. “So secretive.”

In the blink of an eye, Dick was pulled into Wally’s arms, and they were speeding out of Gotham. From experience, Dick knew to close his eyes. There was a reason that Wally wore goggles and moving this fast always made Dick’s stomach turn unpleasantly.

Dick heard the robotic voice announcing their arrival, and then Wally was depositing him onto a couch in the social area of the Teen Titans Tower. “Package delivered!” Wally said, plopping down next to Dick and loosely putting his arm around him.

Roy was already in the room, both mask and scowl on. Kori floated in, her eyes wide with worry. “Friend,” she said. “You have been away for so long. What has been keeping you from us?”

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat. These were his friends. He could tell them. They’d understand. “Robin…Robin was killed by the Joker in May.”

“Fuck,” Wally said eloquently. “ _Shit_ , dude.”

Dick let Wally wrap in him into a hug. Kori rested a comforting hand on Dick’s shoulder. “We mourn with you,” Kori said.

“Thanks,” Dick said. He blinked away tears and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Did his death change your mind about being Nightwing?” Roy asked bluntly.

“No,” Dick said. “It wasn’t my choice.”

“Batman?” Wally guessed. His tone was resigned.

All the Titans knew about Batman’s…overbearing nature. He was the reason that Dick had never told his friends his true identity, but they still accepted Dick as one of their own.

“Yeah. He hasn’t let me patrol or leave Gotham,” Dick said. “I was able to sneak away this morning. I have some unresolved business with the Joker, and I need help if…if you wanted to. I understand if you wouldn’t want to help.”

“Of course we will aid you in your mission of justice,” Kori said fiercely.

“Whatever you need,” Wally said.

Dick met Roy’s eyes. Roy shrugged. “I never liked the Joker.”

“Thank you all,” Dick said sincerely. “You’re the best.”

Wally ruffled Dick’s hair. “What do you need?”

Dick relaxed as the somber mood receded. “Two things – first, I want B to think I’m with one of you. Second, I want him distracted by other things. This means sending fake transitions, hacking cameras, and impersonating League members, especially the ones that irritate him.”

“Green Arrow,” Roy said, smirking.

“Yeah. And if any of this becomes too much, you can definitely stop. I know how, um, Batman can be.”

Roy snorted. “Yeah, we know, which is why we will take any opportunity to fuck with him.”

“Don’t do anything too blatant,” Dick said. “Jason’s death has him made more…intense.”

“Ugh, really?” Wally winced. “How is that possible?”

Dick shrugged. “Nothing impossible for a bat.”

“Cyborg’s on a mission right now,” Wally said, “but I know he’ll be on board. He can handle the hacking. I can transport you wherever you need to go in Gotham.”

“And I’ll impersonate Green Arrow,” Roy said smugly. “Ollie’s been especially obnoxious lately. It’ll be fun to get the Bat mad at him.”

“I owe you all big time,” Dick said.

“Pfft.” Wally rolled his eyes. “You’ve saved our necks enough times. It’s the least we can do.”

“Yes,” Kori said. “You are our friend, and we will always help you, as you have always helped us.”

“Beast Boy is going to pissed that he missed this,” Roy said, snickering.

“Where is-” Dick started.

“Most of the team is on an off-planet mission,” Roy said. “They’ve been gone all summer.”

Bruce never let Dick go on the missions in space. They were too risky. Bruce also didn’t like it when Dick went on long missions. One day, though, Dick was determined to go farther into space than the Watchtower, but for now, Dick would be satisfied with just being Nightwing again.

“Once I’m back in Gotham, I’ll have to completely break contact with you guys,” Dick said.

“How will we know if you are successful?” Kori asked.

“When B stops bugging you, that means I’m caught,” Dick said. He didn’t add that, in the case of Dick’s death, they would immediately know, because Batman would probably go on a warpath. But Dick wasn’t planning on dying, so it shouldn’t be an issue. “An again, if he becomes too much-”

“He won’t,” Roy said.

“Yeah, we go this, Rob,” Wally said. “You find the Joker, while we keep Batman distracted.”

Dick didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such a good team.

+++

Dick rapped on the window, hoping the sound could be heard from inside the cozy apartment. If he stayed too long perched on the fire escape, someone might notice, and Dick did not need the police to be called on him.

Barbara wheeled into view, a taser resting on her lap. Her shoulders loosened when she saw Dick on the other side of the window, but she still scowled at him. He gestured impatiently at the window locks.

Dick could see the indecision on her face. They hadn’t spoken in almost a year, and Barbara didn’t want anything to do with the Bats anymore. Dick still knew her well enough to know that curiosity would win out in the end.

He was right. After almost a full minute of glaring, she opened the window. He scrambled into the apartment before she could change her mind.

“What are you doing here?” Barbara hissed. “I thought someone was breaking in! Why couldn’t you use the front door like a normal person?”

“Babs, I need your help,” Dick said. “Please.”

Barbara didn’t look happy, but she huffed and pointed at her couch. “Sit and explain.”

Dick obeyed. “I, um…I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Out with it, Grayson. I don’t have all day,” Barbara said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Jason’s dead.”

Her face froze in a shocked expression. “I – _Shit._ I knew something was up when you both stopped showing up on patrol, but, god, Jason. I didn’t think… _How_?”

Dick grimaced. “The Joker.”

Barbara’s knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands into fists. “ _Bastard_ ,” she spat. “Of course. _Fuck_. When? When did this happen?”

“Three months ago.”

Barbara’s eyes, full of anger, narrowed even more. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I wanted to,” Dick said quickly. “I really, really wanted to talk to you, and I would’ve, but Bruce hasn’t let me leave the manor or contact anyone since it happened.”

Barbara stared at him for a long moment, as if to check his sincerity, before burying her face in her hands. “God, _Jason_. That bastard. He was just a _kid_.” Then her head snapped up. “Why hasn’t Bruce put that fucking clown in Arkham yet?”

“That’s why I need your help,” Dick said. “I’m sorry to drop all of this on, but I only just managed to escape the manor yesterday, and I haven’t been able to find any leads. Bruce hasn’t told me anything about the case, and word on the street is that the Joker has been missing for over two months.”

“Why come to me?” Barbara asked. “I’m out of the game. The Teen Titans would have more resources.”

Dick couldn’t tell her that he’d already spoken to the Teen Titans. If Bruce got to Babs, which he would eventually, Dick didn’t want to give her to have too many things to keep secret. Even to family, Bruce was a frightening interrogator.

“Bruce won’t come after you for helping me,” Dick said. “He’s…not been the same, and I don’t want to push my luck any more than I have to. Besides, I’d like to keep this in the family.”

Barbara took a deep breath, her eyes shut, and Dick recognized the meditative breathing exercise she was doing. He waited a few minutes as she centered herself. Barbara had always been better at reigning in her emotions than Dick.

Dick slipped off his backpack and began taking out files. By the time Barbara opened her eyes, all the information Dick had gathered on the Joker was spread out on her coffee table.

“That’s pretty presumptuous,” she grumbled.

“So you won’t help me?” Dick said, amused despite the serious situation.

She rolled her eyes and moved closer to the files. “Shut up, Grayson.”

+++

It was nostalgic, working with Barbara again. She hadn’t lost any of her smarts or sarcastic wit, and her hacking skills were even sharper than before. It would’ve been fun, if the case they were diving into wasn’t so personal.

Through the information Dick had gathered and the camera feeds Barbara had hacked into, they were able to narrow down a list of locations where the Joker might be laying low.

“Are you going to kill him?” Barbara asked as Dick packed up his things before leaving to investigate the locations on their list.

“What?”

“The Joker. Are you going to kill the Joker if you find him?” Barbara said.

“I…” Dick wanted to. There was no question. Out of all the rogues, the Joker had done the most damage to his family and probably to Gotham. “I don’t know,” Dick said honestly.

“I certainly won’t shed a tear when he dies,” Barbara said. “But I don’t want you to be the one who kills him. Bruce and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I agree with his no-kill rule. It’ll change you, if you deliberately kill the Joker.”

“Even though he deserves it? Even after everything he’s done to people? Jason? You?”

“I don’t want to add you to that list,” Barbara said. “He’s gotten to me and Jason, but he hasn’t gotten his claws into you. If you kill him, he’ll never leave you.”

Dick didn’t know what to say to that.

Barbara sighed. “Off you go, Boy Blunder. Don’t do anything especially stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Bruce or Tim in this chapter. They'll be back soon. 
> 
> My original plan for this fic did not include the Teen Titans, but they showed up anyway. At some point, I'll write some one-shots of Dick hanging out with the Teen Titans, and Bruce being overbearing. If any of y'all have ideas on how the Titans can mess with Batman, let me know. Next chapter will show Bruce and Tim trying to find Dick, and I have some fuzzy ideas on Titans shenanigans, but all thoughts welcome. :)
> 
> Thank again for all the kudos and comments and warm vibes! I love and appreciate all the support. :)


	7. Investigation and Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Bruce investigate Dick's disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - very brief mention of suicide
> 
> I originally wanted to make this chapter funny, where the Titans drive Tim and Bruce nuts. It got a little, uh, on the more intense side with less humor. As it goes.

Tim had never seen Bruce like this. During Tim’s time at the manor, Bruce had kept his Bruce Wayne and Batman personas separate. Now, Tim was seeing them merge. Bruce’s entire focus was on retrieving Dick. It was intense – and exciting – to watch.

To Tim’s surprise, Bruce accepted Tim’s offer to help. Unfortunately, Dick had disguised himself enough to fool the Batcomputer’s facial recognition software, so Tim was scanning surveillance feeds and social media for any sign of Dick.

“Any luck?” Bruce said, a few hours later.

After showing Tim the basics on how to use the Batcomputer to view surveillance, Bruce had left Tim alone in the Batcave and gone looking for leads in Gotham.

Bruce pulled off his cowl and stood behind where Tim was sitting. Tim’s eyes ached from staring at the Batcomputer’s many screens for so long, but he wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. He was working with _Batman_.

“Sort of,” Tim said. He felt embarrassed and frustrated by his lack of significant success. This was his one chance to prove himself to Bruce and actually be a part of a something important, not just watch from the sidelines. “I saw my parents' housekeeper drop him off in the city, so he must’ve gone to my house after leaving, but I can’t track him after that. He gets in a cab, and I lose him.”

“He’s using basic diversion tactics,” Bruce said. “You need to track the cab he is in now, and then track each different mode of transport that he uses before getting to his intended destination.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped. How was he supposed to do that? He’d barely found Dick in the first place, and he couldn’t even properly follow the first cab.

“It takes days of training to learn how to manually track a vehicle in populated areas,” Bruce continued. “Since we don’t have time for that right now, I’ll show you how to use the Batcomputer’s vehicle-tracking software.”

Tim was surprised – Bruce was giving him a second chance, _and_ Bruce would teach him more Bat-stuff! Tim wished that Dick was around so that Tim could babble excitedly about this opportunity. Dick would probably ruffle Tim’s hair and tease him about his fanboy ways. The thought only made Tim more determined to find Dick.

+++

On top of the surveillance software, Bruce taught Tim how to use other Batcomputer features. Tim still couldn’t believe that Bruce was taking so much time to teach Tim, when Bruce could do all this work much faster on his own.

“Uh, Bruce?” Tim said, after he’d successfully tracked Dick to a phone booth and traced the call.

Bruce was in the lab area, working on a project that he refused to elaborate on. “You found something?”

Bruce walked over and rested a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim almost shivered at the touch. Without Dick around, Tim’s daily dose of physical contact had dropped significantly.

“I think Dick called Titans Tower,” Tim said. “And then Kid Flash showed up, and then they left Gotham.”

Tim gnawed on his lower lip while Bruce scanned the call information and the video of Kid Flash appearing. Tim glanced up and saw that Bruce was scowling. “Will you have to break into Titans Tower?” Tim asked.

Was Batman even allowed to do that? Would the Justice League get involved? Tim wanted Dick back, for sure, but even he was aware that holding Dick at the manor against his will was illegal, and the other heroes would probably side with Dick over Bruce. Going to the Titans for help was a good move on Dick’s part.

“No,” Bruce said. “Dick knows that I can easily get to him there, and he won’t want to involve his friends directly. He’s using them as a distraction.”

As if on cue, the Batcomputer pinged to alert them of a notification. Tim opened it. “Wallace West has posted a picture of him and Dick on Facebook,” Tim said. “Who’s that?”

“Wally West is Kid Flash. Dick considers him a friend,” Bruce said darkly, saying ‘friend’ like it was dirty word.

Tim knew that Dick had been a member of the Teen Titans as Robin and would sometimes participate on missions as Nightwing, but Dick had never talked about them to Tim. Tim wondered, with a twinge of jealousy, if Dick preferred his former teammates’ company to Tim’s. Had Tim just been a poor substitute for the people that Dick actually wanted to hang out with?

Tim pushed away the thought. Dick wasn’t like that. Tim had watched Dick as Dick Grayson, Robin, and Nightwing, and in all of his identities, Dick was genuine and kind. Dick wouldn’t fake his affection for Tim.

_Ping_. A new notification popped up. Nightwing in Star City. _Ping._ Nightwing spotted patrolling with Green Arrow. _Ping._ Another picture posted by Wally West of Dick. _Ping_. This alert was in red. Meta spotted flying over Gotham.

The notifications continued without any sign of stopping. “You were right about them being a distraction,” Tim said. “Could we use this to create, uh, a negative image to see where he’s distracted you from?”

“Usually, yes, but I personally trained Dick on evasion and distraction. He wouldn’t make that mistake,” Bruce said. “I doubt he told the Titans details of his plan. Their only mission is to distract us, so they won’t inadvertently expose him.”

Tim felt warm at being included in the ‘us’, like they were a team or something. “So what next?”

“Tracking social media won’t work,” Bruce said. “He’ll return to Gotham, but the Titan’s interference will make it difficult to track him the usual way. I will-”

A loud siren interrupted Bruce and a new notification popped, filling all the Batcomputer’s screens. “ _Justice League Emergency Alert,”_ the computer said in a professional tone over the noise.

Tim quickly moved out of the way when Bruce began typing commands into the computer. The siren stopped, and the alert was minimized. Green Arrow’s picture appeared on the screen. _“We need you in the Watchtower, ASAP,”_ Green Arrow’s voice said through the computer speakers. _“Emergency.”_

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Your timing is suspicious.”

_“It’s urgent,”_ Green Arrow said. “ _I’ll explain when you get here.”_

“On my way,” Bruce said. He ended the communication feed.

Tim stared, wide-eyed. “Are they under attack?”

“Likely another diversion but an effective one,” Bruce said. He pulled his cowl back on. “Let Alfred know that I’ll be gone for the afternoon. While I’m away, I need you to track Kid Flash’s movements. He’s my next lead.”

+++

_“Look, Batman, I didn’t mean-”_

“It should be obvious to log out of your secure, _private_ comm system when. You. Aren’t. _Using it_ ,” Bruce snarled.

_“But only Speedy-”_

“This is not the first time that your _sidekick_ has interfered with League business,” Bruce said. “He should earn your trust back. Instead, you _allow_ him to repeatedly put the League’s members at risk. You will not like my response if you jeopardize League security again.”

Bruce hung up.

Usually, reaming members of the Justice League for their repeated incompetence irritated Bruce. But his oldest child was lost in the dangerous world with inadequate backup on a reckless mission, so Bruce used the lecture as stress-relief.

Not to mention practice – Dick would be getting the talking to of a lifetime when Bruce actually _found_ him.

Bruce rolled his tense shoulders back with a frustrated growl. Dick had vanished two days ago, and they only had one lead – the Teen Titans. Bruce had known that letting Dick join that team in any capacity would be a mistake, but Bruce had let himself be swayed by Dick’s wide, pleading eyes. It was a mistake that Bruce had refused to repeat with Jason and would not repeat with Tim.

But it had happened, and now Dick was using his former team to hide from Bruce. Fortunately, Bruce knew how to turn the situation to his own advantage. Dick’s strengths were also his weaknesses.

_“Uh, Batcave to Batman?”_ Tim’s voice filtered through Bruce’s comm system – the sound was augmented to protect Tim’s identity on the off chance that someone was listening.

Bruce’s lips twitched at the mixture of excitement and nervousness in Tim’s tone. The child was just as eager as Dick had been during Robin’s first mission, but Tim had none of the childish confidence. They would have to work on that.

“Report,” Bruce said.

_“Kid Flash took the bait.”_

“Good,” Bruce said. He was about to end the communication, but then he remembered Dick’s advice when Bruce had trained Jason. _He needs positive feedback, Bruce!_ “Good work.”

Tim squeaked in surprise right as the line went dead.

+++

Bruce had not fallen for the phony communication from Green Arrow. However, the incident had given Bruce the perfect idea for a trap. He’d sent the Batplane out of Gotham on autopilot, to give the illusion that Batman was no longer in the city. Then, he’d manufactured his own deceptive call.

Wally West was the easiest target on the Teen Titans. Coming from Central City, he was more gullible and emotionally driven than his teammates. A call, allegedly from Dick, was all it took to get Kid Flash back in Gotham. Bruce wondered, not for the first time, why Dick had chosen _this_ boy to be a close friend.

Bruce had lured Kid Flash into an abandoned warehouse and had remotely changed the warehouse’s temperature to be cold enough to slow down Kid Flash but warm enough to avoid endangering Wally’s life. With the exits locked tight and his powers severely hampered, Kid Flash wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time Bruce reached the warehouse, Kid Flash had been shivering in the darkness for almost an hour. Bruce was tempted to wait longer, but he was impatient. He needed information immediately. Dick was in danger. Every second mattered.

Bruce purposefully allowed moonlight to briefly stream into dark building as he slipped in from the roof, marking his entrance and putting Wally even more on edge.

“F-f-fuck,” Wally whispered at Batman’s menacing shadow, before Bruce melted into the darkness.

Wally twitched at every sound and scanned the room for any hint of Batman’s location. Bruce moved within the shadows to further unnerve his prey.

Dick might hypocritically mock Batman’s theatrics, but they were surprisingly effective on Gotham’s criminals and, apparently, Kid Flash.

“Batman?” Wally called. “A-are you – are y-you there?”

Bruce let the moment hang in utter silence as Wally became more and more anxious. Bruce finally dropped down from the ceiling to land behind Wally, his boots slapping loudly on the floor. Wally shrieked and spun around. In his rush, he almost tripped over his own feet.

“ _Where is my son_?” Bruce thundered.

To his credit, Wally didn’t immediately crack under pressure. Instead he babbled, “I-I-I-I d-don’t know. I have no idea. Absolutely n-no clue. H-h-haven’t seen h-him in w-w-weeks. He’s probably in Bl-Bludhaven. I-”

Bruce moved forward, crowding Kid Flash up against the wall. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Wally squeaked. “Honestly! I-I don’t know where he is. He just had me drop him-” Wally clamped his mouth shut.

“ _Where_?” Bruce snarled.

Eyes wide, Wally shook his head desperately. “I-”

“Stop wasting my time,” Bruce said. “I know he asked you for help, to be a distraction.”

“He d-didn’t tell m-me anything else!” Wally said. “I swear!”

The Flash had obviously not taught his protégé on how to handle an interrogation, but Kid Flash wasn’t going to budge anymore from just implied threats. Bruce needed to change tactics, throw Wally off guard.

“Why are you covering for him?” Bruce asked, keeping his voice hard.

“He – he’s my friend,” Wally said, defiant. “He’d do the same for me.”

Bruce wanted to rip away Kid Flash’s claim on Bruce’s son. He wanted to slam Wally hard enough into the wall that his head cracked. He wanted to _force_ Wally into releasing the grasp that he had over Bruce’s child. Dick shouldn’t belong to the Teen Titans – any of them. Dick should belong only to his family.

But Wally wasn’t lying about his claim. Dick _would_ offer protection for Wally just as easily on Wally was giving it now. For that reason – and that reason alone – Bruce didn’t act on his rageful thoughts.

Bruce softened his tone. “We both want the same thing – for my son to be safe.” Their definitions of safe varied, but Bruce wouldn’t mention that. “Since his brother’s death, he hasn’t been the same – reckless, impulsive, borderline suicidal.”

Wally’s eyes went even wider with shock. “What? No, you’re – you’re lying. Rob seemed fine. You have to – to be lying.”

“I’m not,” Bruce said. “I’ve been sheltering him for a reason. He’s now on a mission where he will either be killed by the Joker or kill the Joker. Either outcome is unacceptable.”

Wally’s racing thoughts were blatantly displayed all over his face. He was debating whether or not to believe Batman, fighting between trusting Dick’s words and wanting Dick to be safe, and losing the battle against his own guilt. Wally might be suspicious of Batman because of Dick’s stories, but Wally also had an intrinsic trust of authority and the Justice League. Bruce waited patiently. It was only a matter of time.

When Wally’s posture slumped, Bruce knew that he’d won. Wally averted his gaze. “I…H-he really didn’t tell me much, just…that he was going after the Joker. He wanted us to distract you – that’s all. Last night, I dropped him off downtown Gotham, but I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Where is the exact location that you left him?”

Wally told him, still shame-faced.

Bruce stepped back. He had what he needed. Using a remote in his utility belt, he unlocked the warehouse exits and disabled the freezer setting. “The Titans _will_ stop interfering,” Bruce growled. “Get out of my city.”

He faded into the shadows and left the warehouse before Kid Flash could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to everyone who is commenting and kudos-ing! The support always makes me smile! :)
> 
> Real quick - I forgot to address this after my months of radio silence. A few chapters ago, I asked for thoughts on ships. Most people said that they'd prefer no ships, so in the 'canon' of this AU, I won't center around any ships, though some relationship stuff might be mentioned. However, I might write AUs of this AU where shipping is a thing. We'll see. Thank you for all the responses and thoughts on the matter! :)


	8. The Joker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's investigation continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this fic! (Not the last fic of the series though.) I'll start the next fic soon-ish.

Dick and Barbara had compiled a list of fifteen locations that the Joker might be hiding in. The first nine were empty, but Dick found Harley Quinn and Ivy at tenth location. He spotted them before they could spot him. As he hid in the shadows, he wished that he could comm Barbara – she could’ve given him an in-depth description of the layout and call for help in case something went wrong – but Dick had refrained from using comms.

It was only a matter of time that Bruce used Wally to trace Dick to Barbara. Dick didn’t want to make Bruce’s job too easy.

For a disguise, Dick still had his hoodie and a domino mask. He wasn’t immediately recognizable, but Ivy wasn’t the type to kill on sight. Hopefully Harley would contain herself. Dick stepped out of the shadows.

Both women tensed, ready for a fight. Dick raised his hands up. “I’m just here to talk,” he said. “It’s me, Nightwing.”

Immediately, vines came out of nowhere and secured his arms and legs. Against his better instincts, Dick didn’t struggle. With a sway of her hips, Ivy sauntered forward. Harley was on her heels, loosely gripping her mallet.

“Nightwing?” Ivy said skeptically, looking him over. “Quite the costume change.”

Dick flashed a smile. “Long story.”

Ivy glanced over her shoulder at her friend. “What do you think, Harley? Is this Nightwing?”

Harley circled Dick, squinting suspiciously. “The build is the same,” she said. “He sounds the same. Whatcha here for, hun?”

“I’m looking for the Joker,” Dick said. “He, uh – I have a bone to pick with him.”

“This about Robin?” Harley asked, not without sympathy.

Dick’s jaw clenched, and he nodded sharply.

“What about Robin?” Ivy asked.

It was hard to get the words out, so Dick was almost thankful when Harley explained, “Mistah J caught Robin and beat ‘im to death. And then blew ‘im up for good measure. It’s why me and ‘im have been on the outs. It wasn’t right, killin’ a Robin like that. Bats, sure. I’d like to kick that self-righteous mother-fucker in the mouth any day of the week, but Robin’s just a kid.” Harley jerked her thumb at Dick. “I’ve known this one since he was tiny as a puppy.”

Ivy was scowling. “Your business is just with the Joker then? No Batman ready to drop down?”

“Scouts honor,” Dick said. “Batman’s actually trying to stop me, so if he does show up, he’ll be more interested in me than you.”

Harley’s eyes widened, and Ivy’s eyebrows rose. They both knew what that meant. There was only one obvious reason that Batman would try to stop Nightwing from getting revenge. Batman’s no-kill rule was non-negotiable.

“Didna think you had it in ya, ex-boy wonder,” Harley said. “If ya find my puddin’, tell ‘im that that’s what he deserves for ignorin’ my sound advice.” She sniffed indignantly.

Harley and Joker’s fights were notoriously bad and violent, but this fight had to be particularly bad if Harley wasn’t even a little frazzled by the Joker’s potential murder. Ivy’s gleeful reaction – only shown by the smug smile – was expected.

“Harls,” Ivy said. “You should wait outside.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Harley whined, but she obediently stomped away, leaving Dick and Ivy alone together.

Ivy moved forward so that she and Dick were barely a foot apart. “She might be fine with this now, but she sometimes changes her mind when it comes to that bastard,” Ivy said in a low tone. “If you do kill him, you’ll be doing both of us a favor.”

“You know where he is?” Dick said quietly.

“No,” Ivy said. “I’d kill him myself if I did. He really fucked with Harley this time. But I do have information. I know where he was last seen before my plants lost track of him.”

+++

Harley and Ivy were officially Dick’s favorite criminals. At least, until they caused Gotham’s next disaster. Dick had an area to search, and he knew that the Joker was hiding where Ivy’s plants couldn’t reach. He easily narrowed down possible hideaways.

Dick stared at the old, abandoned lab building. He wondered if Bruce had any idea that an old WE site was connected to the Joker’s disappearance. Or probably was connected. The small building was near Joker’s last known location. It was made of concrete and steel, which meant that Ivy’s spies couldn’t easily get in.

The lock on the door was flimsy. Dick second-guessed himself for a moment, based on how simple it was to get inside. He’d expected the Joker to have a better enforced entrance to a safe house. It could be a false lead or a trap, but Dick’s instincts were encouraging him to go on.

The main floor of the lab was eerily empty. No furniture – just dust, concrete floors, and a bunch of ajar doors to various labs and conference rooms. Dick checked each one, but they were also creepily empty. Dick hated abandoned labs. They were the worst places to get captured. They usually came with crazy scientists and their equally crazy experiments, and the boy wonder was the best guinea pig.

Dick shuddered at the memories.

To Dick’s relief, the elevator still worked. He hadn’t looked forward to grappling down an elevator shaft. The elevator creaked unsettlingly as it went down. Dick kept a tight grip on his grappling hook. This place was almost designed to unnerve him.

Once in the basement, he found a door with a much better security system. It looked straight from the 90s, when the lab had closed, but Dick recognized the additional, more modern technology woven in. He was definitely on to something.

He didn’t have the proper tools to break in. He hadn’t grabbed any hacking devices from the Batcave, because they’d be too traceable. Explosives were out of the question in the small space. There was, however, a keypad.

Dick tried the common combinations. They all failed. The tricky part was that he didn’t know how long the combination needed to be. On a whim, he tried Bruce’s favorite combo – 91939 – in case the security was related to WE business. It failed. Dick sighed. He couldn’t feasibly go through all possible combinations. He wasn’t the Flash.

Maybe it was a Joker-related combo? Five minutes in, the light flashed green, and the door unlocked. The horribly familiar date of Jason’s death had done it. Dick felt nauseous at the Joker’s sick joke, a casual reminder of a kid’s brutal murder.

The room that Dick stepped into was recently renovated. It still had the lifeless concrete walls, but it was well-lit and clean. Dick didn’t have time to explore. He was transfixed on a curled form across the room.

The Joker looked up and met Dick’s eyes with his own, wild green ones.

Dick felt rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move. All he could think about was that video – Jason’s cries – the Joker’s cackles and taunts – the branded J on Jason’s face.

Rage soon replaced shock, and Dick moved forward. Any and all doubts about the morality of his decision were gone. He wanted _blood_.

But then the Joker began to scream. The sound pierced the air, long and drawn out and _terrified_. Dick was frozen again, the rage and shock receding. He’d never heard the Joker – or anyone – scream like that.

When the Joker ran out of air, he began rocking himself, back and forth, his knees tucked under his chin, sobbing quietly.

Broken out of his stupor, Dick actually looked around. What appeared to be medical supplies lined the walls on industrial shelving units. There were bandages, syringes, sinister vials, and weird-looking devices. Near the Joker, there was a toilet and a shower. Most importantly, Dick finally noticed the thick, clear barrier between him and the Joker.

This wasn’t the Joker’s safehouse. This was the Joker’s _prison_.

Dick stepped closer again. The Joker continued rocking but kept his gaze locked on Dick. It was so strange to see the Joker scared. He was one of the few villains that didn’t show fear and delighted in Batman’s rage. “How’d you get here?” Dick asked.

“You – you know,” the Joker rasped. “He sent you. He must’ve sent you. What’re you going to do? What – what else – I didn’t – he – he – he –”

“Who’re you talking about?” Dick said sharply. He might be talking to a trauma victim, but this was still _the Joker_. Dick didn’t have it in him to sound gentle.

The Joker stopped rocking. His eyes widened even more. “He…he _didn’t_ send y-you?”

“No,” Dick said. He didn’t have any reason to lie.

The Joker leaped forward, falling on his knees. Chains around his ankles and wrists kept him from getting too close to the clear barrier. Dick still flinched at the movement.

“ _Please_ ,” the Joker begged. “Please, please, please-”

“What?” Dick said.

“Kill me. Now. Hurry. Before he comes back. _Kill me_. Please. Kill me. I can’t – it’s too much. Kill me. _Please._ ”

That had been Dick’s original plan. The Joker had taken so much from Dick and his family, not to mention Gotham. He _deserved_ to die. Even Bruce agreed with that, though Bruce insisted that they shouldn’t be the ones to end the bastard’s sorry existence.

But killing the Joker like this didn’t feel…right. The Joker was literally _asking_ for death. Dick would be giving him what he wanted.

What was Dick supposed to do? Leave the Joker here, to continue suffering at the hands of some unknown sadist? Rescue the Joker and just…kill him later, when he was…pathetic? Or throw him into Arkham? Should Dick just tell Batman and let him deal with this mess? But that would the same as putting the Joker into Arkham.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Dick hadn’t heard footsteps, hadn’t noticed when the Joker stopped pleading for death. He was off his game. Dick spun around, swinging a punch at the assailant behind him. Dick’s forearm was caught in a firm grasp. Dick tried to yank away, until his brain caught up with his eyes.

_“B?”_

The black, reflective eyes of Batman’s cowl stared back at Dick. Dick recognized the grim line of Bruce’s mouth that meant Bruce was _angry_.

That didn’t faze Dick. He’d expected to face a furious Bruce ever since Dick had escaped the manor. It came with the territory. What _did_ scare Dick was that Bruce was _here_ , which meant…

The pieces began to click into place. The restricted access to the Joker’s file – the Joker’s disappearance right after Jason’s murder – the WE building – the door’s security code.

“ _B?_ ” Dick said again, feeling like the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

It shouldn’t matter – Dick should _glad_ that Batman had taken the Joker off the streets – except the Joker hadn’t just been contained. Dick couldn’t see him, but Dick could hear the Joker’s muffled whimpers of fear. Dick remembered the sound of the Joker’s scream. The Joker had been tortured. Viciously. By Batman _._ By _Bruce_.

Batman used his grip on Dick’s arm to drag him out of the room. Dick let him, feeling limp and boneless.

When they were out of the Joker’s prison room – torture chamber – Bruce slammed the steel-enforced door shut. It locked automatically with a menacing _click._ Finally, Bruce released Dick. Dick scrambled away, pressing his back against the wall.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Batman repeated in a growl.

“You – _you_ took the Joker?” Dick said, just to be sure. “You’ve been…” He couldn’t say the words.

“Yes,” Batman said. There was no sign of guilt in the admission.

“But – Why – You –” Dick swallowed. “ _Why?_ ”

“He took too much,” Bruce said.

The pragmatic tone sparked a brief flicker of anger in Dick. “You draw the line at killing, but _that’s_ okay?” Dick gestured at the door.

“That monster doesn’t _deserve_ death,” Bruce snarled.

Dick stared at Batman – at his former mentor – at his father. This man had tucked Dick in after nightmares, had taught Dick how to play chess, had made Dick feel safe after every close call and crisis. This man also had threatened Superman over Dick, had scared off Dick’s dates, had locked Dick up to keep him safe. Dick _knew_ Bruce. He knew the darker sides to this man. He knew the lengths that Bruce would go for his family. He should’ve known that Bruce would do this.

Dick had wanted the Joker dead, but the Joker’s death wasn’t an equal exchange for Jason’s. The pain of losing Jason would linger indefinitely. So, Dick couldn’t really be shocked by Bruce’s approach. The Joker ought to feel their pain and more.

The Joker was paying wholly for his crimes. With that knowledge, Dick couldn’t keep the deep, simmering hatred towards the Joker that Dick had nursed since Jason’s death. Without it, Dick felt hollow.

But how could he fully hate the terrified mess that the Joker had become? The Joker from the video had been destroyed. Justice was being served.

Dick sank to the floor. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want to burden you while you healed,” Bruce said. It was a surprisingly honest answer.

“Oh.” Dick stared at the floor.

“I _especially_ didn’t want you anywhere near _him_ , let alone in the same room.” Bruce sounded angry, but Dick knew that Bruce was angry at him.

“Not your fault that I’m stubborn,” Dick said. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and looked at Bruce. “I…I understand. Why you’re doing this, I mean. It’s…I don’t know if I…agree, but…it’s a better justice than I had planned.”

Bruce seemed to be at a loss for words. Dick offered him a weak smile and said, “I have to know; what Teen Titan did you interrogate?”

“Kid Flash,” Bruce said.

Dick had expected much. Still, he sighed. “Poor guy. This is the second time you’ve scared him half to death. You should pick Roy next. He’s better at defying authority, _and_ he’s always stealing my cereal stash.” Dick laughed quietly to himself.

Bruce hummed and knelt by his side. “You’re going into shock.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dick said. “You should take me home before I get too scared of whatever sentence awaits me. You apparently do punishment really well.”

“I would _never_ do that to _you_ ,” Bruce snarled. “You’re my son. You-”

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I – _Fuck._ This is so messed up.”

“You should never be afraid of me,” Bruce said.

There were many ways Dick could respond, but they were all hurtful. Dick didn’t want to keep hurting Bruce.

“Take me home,” Dick said. “I have a promise to keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been commenting and kudos-ing! All the feedback gives me warm vibes. :)  
> I'll hopefully see y'all next fic. :)  
> Feel free to let me know anything y'all'd like to see in the following fics. I have some ideas for Dick's teen titans days. And, of course, Jason has to show up sometime. ;)
> 
> Edit: Thank you to Soulhearts for writing What Isn't Silver, which is that last scene from Bruce's POV. It's so good! Y'all should check it out. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone that encouraged me in the last fic! I probably wouldn't have continued without all the warm vibes. :)
> 
> Also, thank you for all the plot ideas for this fic left in the last fic's comments! It spurred so many more plot bunnies, and I am definitely using some of those ideas. :D
> 
> Please let me know what you think in comments! Or a kudos or a positive vibe works too. :)
> 
> I have a [tumblr](https://princessmariana-writes.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to say hi! Or shoot more plot bunnies my way. Or judge my sporadic posts from a distance. Or ignore this. Whatever floats your boat. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Isn't Silver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745442) by [Soulhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulhearts/pseuds/Soulhearts)




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